


Very Lucky to Know You

by whateverhappens



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, Bullying, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, SPACE GIRLFRIENDS, thasmin, thirteen x yasmin, wlw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-09-17 10:38:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16973019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whateverhappens/pseuds/whateverhappens
Summary: How extraordinary humans were capable of being in their pursuit for connection, but it was the same brave honesty the Doctor so admired in Yaz that had prompted Izzy to become a permanent scar on her past.The Doctor inquires about Yaz's year from hell with Izzy Flint. Set after The Witchfinders.





	Very Lucky to Know You

**Author's Note:**

> CW for bullying and physical fighting
> 
> ________
> 
> EDIT: Something was bothering me and I realized I left out an entire chunk of conversation near the end I had intended to write, so that's been added. Fixed a few small phrasings, typos, and formatting issues as well. My apologies!

“Oh sorry, you’re busy.” Yaz was already facing to head back down the corridor she had just come from. The Doctor appeared to be repairing controls on the center console, her arms flailing about as she fought with a cluster peculiar switches. “I’m about to turn the kettle on. Just came to see if you wanted a cuppa. Can’t imagine you’re all too warm after being dunked in that river.”

“No need to apologize, Yaz! I’m just making some adjustments. Not always keen on some of the changes the TARDIS makes whens she redecorates,” the Doctor spun around and began rummaging through the bins of tools and spare parts on the floor next to her. A low rumble shook through the walls as the lights dimmed. “Oi! I just mean that I want to move some controls around! Honestly, nothing against you. I’ve just got different arms now is all. Sorry, love!” She caressed the edge of the console before the ship fell silent and the lights returned to their usual, ethereal warmth.

“Sorry about that,” she flashed a relieved grin at Yaz before returning to her work. “I’m feeling quite alright, surprisingly. A cuppa would be lovely but come to think of it, I’ve actually been meaning to ask you something. If you don’t mind talking while I work, that is.” There was a brief pause before the Doctor looked over to see Yaz hesitantly step closer. 

“Oh, sure. What is it?” Yaz asked, trying to disguise the unease in her tone. The Doctor was either about to ask some absurd question about human social norms or a deeply revealing inquiry about her personal life. Agreeing to answer the Doctor was not always a promise she was prepared to keep at the time of making it, but she made the promise over and over anyway. Not because the information felt owed, but because her trust felt earned. And that was no easy feat on Yaz’s terms. 

The Doctor continued fumbling with her tools as she spoke, “What you said back there, to Willa, about that girl in your class…”

“Izzy Flint,” Yaz affirmed. The Doctor swung around to the other side of the console with a bundle of wires in her hand. She was now facing Yaz, with the console between them. The Doctor caught a glimpse of somber dread on her companion’s face. Yaz glanced up at the Doctor, but immediately darted her eyes down and began tracing the outline of her thumb. 

“Yes, Izzy Flint. I’m so sorry you had to experience that. I imagine it must’ve been hard.”

“It was, but we can’t change everything about the past, right? Some of it we just have to live with.”

“Right,” the Doctor gave gentle smile as she considered whether or not to press the issue. She was in no place to judge someone who didn’t want to uproot their trauma for the sake of an explanation, but she couldn’t rid herself of the desire to gain a better understanding of her; to know why someone would purposely hurt a person as genuine and spectacular as Yasmin Khan. “You definitely don’t have to tell me but... Can I ask what happened?”

Though the Doctor’s follow-up came as no surprise, she felt the sting of every wound being ripped open nonetheless. Her spirit dampened and the weight of all the hurt that had accumulated over the years crashed into her once more. However, there was no place and no living being that offered her such solace as this infinite blue box and the impossible woman inside it who had shown her the universe.

Though she was unsure of where to start, words began to trickle out of her mouth before her brain could register them.

“Izzy and I were friends, actually. We got on really well together and we had loads of stuff in common. Always went to each other’s birthday parties… Played football and did school plays together…”

A corner of the Doctor’s mouth curled into a slight smile at the thought of a tiny Yaz spotlighted on stage, flatly shouting her lines while dressed in some ridiculously crafted costume. Perhaps that was an adventure for another day, but until then she reeled her thoughts back to the present. Though her ears clung to every word, she kept her eyes down as she worked, feeling that appearing somewhat distracted was helping to put Yaz at ease.

“She was one of my best mates until...” Yaz continued, her voice laced with the pain yet to come. “She found out something about me one day. After that, she used it against me every chance she got.”

The Doctor was still tinkering with levers and dials on the console, her gestures inadvertently becoming more forceful as Yaz spoke.

“She had everyone making fun of me. Calling me horrible names. Destroying my stuff. Even roughing me up sometimes. I shouldn’t have...” Her voice trailed off, leaving only the Doctor’s movements and a steady hum emanating from the walls to fill the space between them. Yaz wanted to continue but the sudden rush of remorse had drowned her words back down to her core. Recounting the summary of her year from hell to Willa in the past proved to be far easier than trying to divulge every aching detail to the Doctor in the present. It left her feeling exposed and vulnerable in ways she couldn’t entirely make sense of; or perhaps she was capable but too calloused by Izzy Flint to allow herself to scrape the surface. 

Echoes from the Doctor’s work faded as she looked up to see that Yaz was now seated on the ground across from the console; her posture mimicking the crystal arch towering behind her. Her shoulders hunched and head slung down as she concentrated on the hem of her jumper, fidgeting with a loose, green thread that had revealed itself. The crystal cast a soothing glow on her hand as she wrapped the thread repeatedly around her index finger; trying to ground herself in the rhythm and safety she knew surrounded her.

The Doctor settled on the floor facing Yaz, close enough to reassure her presence while maintaining respect for the distance her anguish quietly requested. Yaz’s transparency back in Bilehurst Cragg had surprised the Doctor. Yet, it was remarkable to witness her companion wear her pain as an emblem of hope and persistence for Willa. How extraordinary humans were capable of being in their pursuit for connection, but it was the same brave honesty the Doctor so admired in Yaz that had prompted Izzy to become a permanent scar on her past. With this in mind, the Doctor decided to break the silence; her eyes ablaze with sorrow and compassion and—just beyond that—a glint of fury. 

She shifted forward and softly reassured her, “Yaz, you don’t–”

“No,” Yaz insisted with an unmistakable resolve, “I need to. She’s always kept me quiet. Even now. I can’t keep on like that.” The Doctor gave a patient nod. It became clear just how deeply the ghost of Izzy’s actions had rooted itself in her thoughts; how incessantly it secluded her from her own happiness. 

Yaz sat in silence for quite some time, embracing the whir of the ship and allowing it to lull her into a trance. How long had it been since she said any of these words out loud? It seemed impossible that she would ever be brave enough to speak them again. Nevertheless, she was here, unearthing the courage she had buried inside of herself to be able to confront this piece of her history anew. 

“One day, she caught me staring at our classmate across the cafeteria. Emmie Parker was her name. Izzy started teasing me and asking if I fancied her. I was pretty young and had no idea what to make of it so I just stayed quiet and asked her to stop. I do think she was just teasing at first, but her mood changed when I didn’t say no. She got worked up and eventually just moved to another table. Said she couldn’t be friends with me anymore if I liked girls the way boys did. I knew I had done something wrong, but I didn’t know what to say or how to fix it. By the time the last bell rang, pretty much everyone in my class knew I fancied Emmie. Including Emmie.”

Yaz’s eyes remained fixed on the green thread she had been fiddling with; only at this point, it had been torn from her jumper. It was almost as if she was trying to stitch together the fragments of her life that had shattered after that day. Each time Yaz wound it around her finger, the Doctor fought the urge to fly the TARDIS right into that cafeteria and prevent the conversation from ever happening in the first place. The fact was, this pain was an integral part of Yaz’s story the Doctor could not protect for from, however much the Doctor despised it. There was only one way to make herself useful in this moment and that was to simply lend her the understanding and support of not one, but two beating hearts.

Yaz closed her eyes for a moment and inhaled deeply, “I tried to keep it from my parents. I was terrified they’d stop loving me. They thought I still had friends. They didn’t know that kids were calling me names and destroying my stuff. My classmates cut a hole in my rucksack one day and I took the blame for it. It wasn’t until I was sent home from school for getting in a fight that they found out. Izzy and some group of girls I barely knew cornered me. I just wanted them to stop but they kept hurting me so... I started hurting them back.”

Streaks of tears began to stain Yaz’s cheeks. Still clutching the thread, she folded into herself, her fingertips biting through the fabric into her skin. The Doctor looked on helplessly, her hearts aching to displace her misery. 

“My parents were furious when they found out about the fight. I had to tell them everything, but I made them believe Izzy was just spreading a nasty rumor about me fancying Emmie. My mum talked to the school but there were just _too many_ bad things and _too many_ people doing them. I ended up transferring schools after that. I learned to hate the mornings that year. They meant I had to get up and face the day. Night meant mornings would come sooner. And in between? Utter hell.”

Sobs began erupting from Yaz. Her body convulsed as sharp, chaotic breaths shot through her. Consumed by remorse, the Doctor frantically sprung into action, helplessly searching for words that might comfort Yaz despite her momentary belief that no such words existed.

“I– I’m so sorry, Yaz. About everything. What can I do? Can I give ya a hug?” Yaz nodded between her gasps for air, desperate for an anchor to hold her in place. The Doctor quickly slid next to her and blanketed Yaz in her embrace. She supported her companion’s head against her chest and rested her chin in her hair. Yaz’s chest heaved as sorrow pierced her lungs. Neither of them knew how much time had passed before the Doctor’s hearts began to soothe Yaz’s breaths back to a soft and steady rhythm, but they silently welcomed the respite. The Doctor lowered her head to meet Yaz’s expectedly swollen, tired eyes. 

“You okay?” She whispered. Yaz nodded gently as one last breath jolted through her. “One of my sisters called that the aftershock. That one deep breath that hits you after a good, long cry. It used to aggravate me to no end that there wasn’t a word for it when I was young. So that’s what she named it. I quite like it.”

The Doctor was slightly swaying as she spoke. Yaz stayed in place for a moment, content to be enveloped in the Doctor’s protection and understanding. She was uncertain of a time beyond that year which she felt this inwardly calm and safe. Her body felt lighter and every beat of her heart sang with purpose again. For the first time ever, she had been fully seen.

“Yaz,” the Doctor began while Yaz rose to face her. “I’m so, _incredibly_ proud of you. D’you know that? Every single moment but especially this one. The courage it takes to face every day when it feels like the hurt will never end… Absolutely amazing!” The Doctor took her hand and smiled with a warmth that felt unmatched by every burning star in the sky. “I’m very lucky to know you, Yasmin Khan.” 

The Doctor fixed her eyes on Yaz and let her thumb slowly glide across the smooth of her hand. Yaz quite liked the way the Doctor’s hands felt in hers. How many moments like this had the scar left by Izzy Flint kept her from? None of it mattered to Yaz just then. In that moment, she embraced every last strand of heartache that led her here. Had she never switched schools, she might never have become a police officer and—were that the case—she might never have been on that train the night the Doctor fell to Earth. She knew there were many paths laid out before her that would have led her to happiness, but each passing second made her abundantly grateful she happened upon this one; the one with her impossible Doctor and her infinite blue box.

“Thank you for listening. You’re the first person I’ve really told,” Yaz confessed.

“Of course, love. Listening to you is easy. I’m always happy to do it,” The Doctor replied, her eyes beaming. 

“Anyway, you’ve probably had much bigger problems that some bully named Izzy Flint.”

“That’s the thing, Yaz, I really haven’t. Most of my problems are basically just Izzy Flints, except they go by different names. They make their way by exploiting others’ pain to deflect their own weaknesses. It never works for long, though. Their hate doesn’t endure. We do.”

The Doctor paused and tightened her grip on Yaz’s hands, her words lingering on her tongue before she pushed them out. 

“Everything that happened that year, none of it was your fault. The feelings you had for Emmie didn’t make Izzy hurt you. That’s all on her.” Yaz’s head had slung back down as she spoke. The Doctor leaned in slightly and furrowed her brow in concentration, pushing Yaz’s chin to guide her face back up to hers. Their eyes locked. “You didn’t do anything wrong, okay? You were being yourself and that’s the _most magnificent_ thing anyone can be. From the beginning to the end of the cosmos, there won’t ever be another Yaz. You’re brilliant just as you are and no one—not even Izzy Flint—can take that from you.”

Yaz’s chest relaxed, settling even further into her newfound peace. After struggling for years to find words of comfort, she found herself astonished (and mildly frustrated) that the Doctor spat them out so effortlessly and unreservedly. Though many facets of her future remained uncertain, simply existing with the Doctor in this moment was the most innate encounter she’d ever known; each breath easier and more natural than the last. For the first time in a very long time, she felt hopeful.

“My parents still don’t know,” Yaz’s eyes swung back and forth, following the Doctor’s thumb across her hand, “I think my mum suspects it. What, with asking if you and I were seeing each other, but I don’t know what they’ll say. They were raised with such traditional views.” 

“Well,” the Doctor sighed, “I can’t make promises for them, but I can promise you that you’ll always have a home with me. Everybody’s welcome here. Actually–” The Doctor’s pitch spiked and she scrunched her nose before continuing, “Not everybody. Daleks are among the exception... But even that’s on a case by case basis. Definitely ask me before you let any Daleks in. Anyway.”

It had seemed like eons since Yaz had last burst into laughter. The Doctor was elated and relieved to hear the melody of Yaz’s joy fill the TARDIS again. She sprung up from the floor, reaching a hand out to pull Yaz with her. 

“How ‘bout that cuppa? Think we could both use one now,” she suggested, still searing her burning smile onto Yaz’s heart; a new scar she welcomed with open arms. 

“Absolutely,” she replied. As they turned to face the corridor, the Doctor spoke hesitantly. 

“If it’s alright… Can I just… State an observation...?”

“Sure?” Yaz agreed, giving the Doctor a curious look out of the corner of her eye.

“I have a strong feeling your parents knew a long time ago and never stopped loving you.”

“What makes you say that?” Yaz whipped her head toward her. The Doctor’s eyes narrowed before she spoke, rolling in her top lip until it disappeared. 

“Are you even remotely aware of the amount of leather jackets you own?” 

Yaz exhaled sharply and chuckled before giving her a friendly whack to the side. The Doctor shrugged and swung her arm around her shoulder as they began walking. Leaning her head on the Docotor, Yaz quietly admitted to herself how lovely it was to be able to find joy and amusement in something that had brought her so much dread.

As they made their way down the corridor, Yaz tucked the green thread into her back pocket, making a mental note to preserve it; never wanting to forget the fear, the bliss, and the woman who held her through it all.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic so please be gentle.


End file.
